


Like a Rock From the Sky

by StripedSunhat



Series: Single Father Klaus [3]
Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Family Issues, Gen, It's fine when you do it but if anyone else does it's inappropriate, Klaus's unacknowledged parental jealousy, Oh I see, Pre-Canon, Tarvek's lingering shadow, Why Gil needs therapy, Why Klaus needs therapy, Why Sparks need therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 17:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15610884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StripedSunhat/pseuds/StripedSunhat
Summary: Klaus mostly makes time for his son and completely forgets that other people can have different thoughts and views about their personal identity that are just as valid as his are.Or you know, validat all.





	Like a Rock From the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> I swear at some point they'll move past the lab.  
> As soon as Klaus figures out how to have a conversation with Gil outside of it.  
> In the meantime, enjoy more of Klaus being passingly decent at the little things and utterly failing at the big ones.

It could be hard finding enough time to spend with his son. But they’d mostly come to an acceptable equilibrium. Gilgamesh had apparently taken his words about the demands of the empire more to heart than he’d expected. Besides, regardless of how much or how little time they managed, it was still more than before.

Klaus had a son again. It was a feeling he hadn’t even realized he’d lost until he’d found it again.

He was actually, honestly grinning when he rounded the corner to their shared lab. Gilgamesh was waiting for him just outside the door bouncing on his toes. Klaus felt his grin get wider.

“Father! You’re here!”

“Hello Gil, I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”

“Of course not Father.” Gilgamesh’s smile didn’t falter at all. Actually if anything it got wider. It was good to know his advisors hadn’t caused him to keep his son waiting again.

“Those biochemical experiments you’ve been wanting to run; I’m sure you remember that I said I didn’t want you working with substances that dangerous yet –”

“I know you said it’s dangerous but I’d be really careful. And you’d be there too in case something did happen.” Klaus leveled a stern look at his son until he remembered he wasn’t supposed to interrupt.

“I can continue what I was saying or we can assume you psychically knew I merely meant to reaffirm my previous ‘no’ and act from there.”

Gilgamesh ducked his head down. “I’m sorry Father.”

Klaus waited. Only once Gilgamesh seemed suitably chastened did Klaus continue. “Now, as I was saying, I’m sure you remember that I said I didn’t want you working with substances that dangerous yet, however, I have been reconsidering and I’ve come to the conclusion that a select few, _supervised_ , experiments might be acceptable.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ll have everything set up and then I should have some free time Thursday evening if you wanted to get started on it.”

“Yes please,” Gilgamesh said, back to bouncing. The smile Klaus had worn entering the lab reappeared. This was his son.

“Well then Gilgamesh, we’ll get started on it Thursday.”

While Klaus was speaking Gilgamesh’s lips twitched downward almost involuntarily. Gilgamesh wanted to experiment with biochemicals for weeks and as soon as Klaus lets him he frowns at it. Klaus will never understand children.

* * *

 

The first few experiments went off without a hitch. It made him a little anxious. Labs never run that smoothly. But no, the experiments were fine. Gilgamesh had the time of his life. Klaus got to spend time with his son. The closest thing they get to the other shoe dropping was a few idiots’ ‘assassination attempt’ calling Klaus away for a few days to deal with them.

It was early morning; Klaus hadn’t even seen the inside of his quarters, let alone his bedroom in almost thirty-six hours. His advisors had chosen today to collectively lose any vestiges of sense they might have had. He’d already had to push back time with Gilgamesh once and now he would have to again. It was going to be a long day. Later he would blame sleep depravation on why he wasn’t surprised when he entered the lab to find Gilgamesh already there. The boy slept even less than he did. He should really do something about that.

“Father! I’m going to breakfast I promise! I just left my notebook in here last night.” He brandished a battered sheath of papers as proof.  
“I’m sure you are,” he agrees slipping the note – mostly instructions and rules this time – into the now usual pocket for when they prove unnecessary.

“So I know we were going to start the chromatography experiment with the mimmoths but I was thinking –”

“Actually, that’s what I came down here to talk to you about. I’m afraid that I won’t be able to join you in the lab today as we’d planned.” Gilgamesh’s face dropped but he nodded without fuss. “I’m sorry Gilgamesh.” Gilgamesh’s nose scrunched up in distaste. “I know you were excited to start on our experiment but I don’t want you working with such unstable biochemical mixtures by yourself.”

“Of course not Father,” Gilgamesh promised.

“You can still go into the lab to work on other projects.” He paused, leveling a significant look down at his son. “Provided?”

“I tell Madam Von Pinn before I do, I don’t miss any class and I’m back in the school before student curfew.” Gilgamesh replied.

“And?”

“I don’t go into any other labs, I don’t go anywhere except the lab and I don’t wander the halls bothering anyone.”

“And?”

Gilgamesh thought for a few seconds. “I don’t start any new projects that could be dangerous, I avoid the section of the lab with the biochemical compounds and I practice good lab safety at all times.”

“And?”

“Um… I don’t let Zoing eat sugar again?”

“You remember to eat and sleep.” Honestly, his son. Then the last thing Gilgamesh said registered. “Wait, what do you mean by let Zoing eat sugar _again_?”

“Um…”

“Gilgamesh.” Gilgamesh actually cringed at the sound of his name. Maybe Klaus was being too hard on his son. They were still figuring out the finer bounds of their relationship. Then again he couldn’t let Gilgamesh grow up without some sense of discipline and he could admit his son was enough of a troublemaker to be more than passingly familiar with these sort of lectures.

“It was for an experiment!”

“What sort of experiment exactly?”

“I was trying to establish a medical baseline and dietary parameters.”

Klaus raised an eyebrow. “Sugar can now be considered a banned substance in the lab.”

“But –”

“I can add tea to that list.”

“Yes father,” Gilgamesh said.

“Good.” Klaus guided Gilgamesh back towards the door. “Come on. You’re late for breakfast.”

* * *

Dietrich barged into the lab. “Hy brought hyu food!” He set down two crabs that immediately began scuttling away. Gilgamesh turned his head to watch them. It was no doubt only Klaus’s hand on his shoulder that kept him from chasing after them. “Leettle Gil liked de lobster so much hy thought meeybe crab vould be a gud idea too! Hyu shouldn’t have too much eff jest vun type eff crustacean. Hyus got to rotate food. Is better for digestion!”

Klaus stared at the jäger. Dietrich only appeared with food when they’d been locked in the lab long enough for him to think it warranted it. That was a rather high bar. He pulled out his pocket watch, swearing when he registered the time. He should have known better than to indulge in lab time with his son without some sort of preset reminder to stop. Even Gilgamesh had Zoing to pull him away when it got too late once Klaus allowed him back in the lab on his own. The little construct was surprisingly good at it; Gilgamesh hadn’t missed a curfew yet. (Or, at the very least Von Pinn hadn’t stormed his office complaining he’d vanished recently.)

“Don’t vorry. Hy ken take leettle Gil beck to de dorms.” Klaus paused. He liked walking part of the way back with Gilgamesh. Oftentimes it was the only chance for a non-Spark tinged conversation with his son that he got. He glanced at his watch again.

“Very well. Gilgamesh, I will see you again as soon as I can.” With a sharp nod he turned around and strode out of the lab intent on making up as much lost time as he could.

As he left he saw Dietrich ruffle Gilgamesh’s hair with one clawed hand. “Come on leettle Gil. Ve’ll try to hunt down dose crabs before ve leave, hokay?” Klaus didn’t turn around. He had an empire to run and he couldn’t afford to put it aside for something so small.

The scene replayed again and again the rest of the day. That night his brain continued to refuse to give it up, playing the scene in a near-constant loop. When he closed his eyes it played on his eyelids and when he opened them it played on his ceiling. When he gave up and pulled out some reports the words repeated in his ears.

There was something wrong with it.

There was something wrong with it and Klaus couldn’t figure out what.

There must be something wrong with it otherwise his brain wouldn’t be so stuck on it.

It was three days later at half-past three in the morning when Klaus had yet again given up any hope of sleep and was reviewing crime reports that it finally hit him. _Come on little Gil. Little Gil._ Dietrich always referred to Gilgamesh like that. It was far too familiar.    

No. It was more than that.

It was far too informal.

Yes, it was far too informal for a soldier towards a child he’d only been briefly tasked with overseeing once. Especially a child of so much higher of a social and political standing.

The next day he makes sure he has time to speak with Gilgamesh. (By which he means he informed his advisors that his time was already spoken for today so they were not allowed to filch it away and then glared at them until he was satisfied they sufficiently understood.) He made it to the lab before Gilgamesh arrived, which was, actually, a little unsettling. This far away from any of the engines the lab was almost unnaturally silent without his son’s clamoring.

“Father!” As if summoned by his thoughts, Gilgamesh appeared in the doorway. “You’re early!”

“Or you’re late,” he countered mildly just to get a reaction.

Gilgamesh did not disappoint. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and he immediately began flailing. “Am I? I didn’t mean to be. I didn’t know you were going to be in the lab yet. If you sent any word I didn’t get it. I’m sorry. I should have known.”

Klaus waved him off. It was true he was almost never in the lab at this time of day.

“Does that mean you have time for some experiments?”

“Perhaps. But first I wanted to ask you something about Dietrich.”

“Dietrich? Of course. What about him?”

“Does he often visit the lab?”

“Occasionally. Usually he comes down to pull me out of the lab when Zoing can’t manage by himself or to bring food and lab supplies.”

“Lab supplies?” That fool? Around anything that belonged in a lab? And who knew what he’d brought in. The whole lab would have to be closed down until Klaus could do a thorough inventory. They could relocate to a smaller lab in the meantime. A more controlled one.

“Uh huh.” Gilgamesh jerks this thumb over to the corner of the lab where two crabs now scuttle back and forth in a small cage. “Lab supplies.”

Oh. “Gilgamesh I believe those were meant as food.”

“Then why are they still alive?”

Klaus sighed. Rather than try to contemplate the complex idiocies that was that particular jäger’s mind, he redirected his focus to his original intent. “Does he always refer to you like that?”

Gilgamesh tilted his head to the side. “Huh? You mean little? I guess? I think it’s probably because he’s so big, everyone looks kind of little to him.”

“No. I mean, does he always call you Gil?”

“… Yes?” Klaus had worried about that. Gil was a fine enough nickname for occasional private use but not all the time and certainly not by the general public. He’d been hoping Gilgamesh would naturally grow out of it as he got older. Instead he seemed to be growing more attached to it instead. Klaus would have to nip this in the bud now.

“Son, Dietrich is a soldier. You really shouldn’t allow him to call you that.”

Gilgamesh’s brow furrowed. “But it is my name.”

“No, it is not. Your _proper_ name is Gilgamesh. And you should be encouraging people to use that.”

The furrow between Gilgamesh’s brows got deeper. “But. I like the name Gil. Gilgamesh always trips everyone up. By the time they’re done saying it everything else they were going to say’s been sucked away. Everything sounds like an order or like I’m in trouble, or like they don’t like me. Gil’s so much better. People will actually talk to me. Tarvek always –” Gilgamesh cut himself off, almost physically jerking back due to the force he shut his mouth with. He stared down at the ground, shoulders curling in on himself.

Sturmvoraus. So _that_ was the root of this problem. He’d assumed the poison of that association had been leeched out by now. Evidently not.

Well, this part at least he could remedy.

“Come with me.” He put a hand on his son’s shoulders, propelling him down the halls until they finally reached his private quarters.

Despite naming him as he did Klaus had only vaguely known the story of Gilgamesh at the time of his son’s birth. A king and a warrior and a great man and that was what he wanted for his son. Besides which, it was the only name that Zantabr–

No.

One of the first things he did once he returned to Europa, after establishing the empire, was to find a copy of the story. He found the finest volume he could get his hands on; bound with expensive leather, richly illustrated, meticulously translated into several different languages and with an extensive forward describing both the history and mythology of the poem. He pulled it out now, running his fingers over the embossed spine.

“Father?” Gilgamesh stood in the middle of the room, staring up at him, shoulders still hunched. He’d never been in

“I want you to have this.” He handed the book to his son, letting him leaf through it. “The original Gilgamesh was a legendary king. As wise as he was powerful. Your name is one of strength and pride Gilgamesh. To let everyone blindly abuse it until they’ve forgotten there’s a real name they should be using is to throw away that pride.” Gilgamesh didn’t say anything, paging through the book again slower this time. He stopped on the page of Gilgamesh’s dream of Enkidu. His fingers traced over the illustration of the two men embracing each other.

A knock sounded at the door. “Herr Baron!” a very nervous sounding voice said, “you’re needed in Lab C-14. There’s something wrong and the remaining scientists can’t figure it out.”

Klaus barely managed not to groan. “I’ll be right there.” Turning back to his son. “I’m afraid I have to go. You should go to. It wouldn’t be the best idea for you to be in here by yourself.”

Gilgamesh jerked from where he’d still been looking at the picture. “Right.” He closed the book and tried to pass it back to Klaus.

“No, keep it. It’s yours now. As a reminder.”

Gilgamesh looked down again. “Oh. Okay. I’ll um, I’ll read it later. Thank you Father.”

Klaus nodded once. There, problem solved. “Come along Gilgamesh.”

“Of course Father.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from a repeated line from _The Epic of Gilgamesh_. It is a descriptor for Enkidu during the aforementioned dream sequence. It's a phrase I've always remembered after reading it, mainly because my professor was very happy to point out that it was something of an innuendo in the original Sumerian.
> 
> Because it the Foglios are going to set up such a wonderful reference, you can be damn sure I'm going to use it.


End file.
